


Breaking Away

by SolarMorrigan



Series: Those 100 [25]
Category: The Real Ghostbusters
Genre: Episode Tag, Established Relationship, I dunno mostly just talking sorry, M/M, Venkman's Ghost Repellers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 12:11:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5333657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolarMorrigan/pseuds/SolarMorrigan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I couldn’t spend my life the way he was. So I worked my ass off and I got a scholarship and I got into school and still, he asks me, ‘you sure you don’t wanna be like your old man?’”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breaking Away

**Author's Note:**

> The pacing of this one is kinda weird, but I actually forgot I wrote it, so it was a nice little surprise to find it sitting in my files

Egon was surprised to find Peter slumped over the kitchen table in the dark, well after the time he’d usually have gone to bed. In fact, Egon had assumed Peter would have immediately made for the bed and attempted to stay there as long as possible so as to sulk off the aftereffects of his father’s visit. The physicist himself had been on his way to their room and had only stopped off at the kitchen for a glass of water. “Peter?” He ventured into the darkness, flicking on the light switch.

Peter jumped at the sudden brightness, twisting around in his chair to glare at Egon. “Give a guy a little warning next time, huh?” He snapped, though with little of his usual energy.

“My apologies,” Egon replied dryly, moving to the cabinet to retrieve a glass, “Next time I’ll leave you to sulk in the dark properly.”

When the only reply that came was a tired sigh, Egon frowned. This was not how the exchange was meant to work; Peter would work himself into a bad mood, Egon would find him and prod him more or less gently into a bit of sarcastic banter, and Peter would eventually admit what was bothering him and they would go from there. Peter wasn’t supposed to ignore the opportunity to snark back at Egon and just… _sigh_. “Did you drop your father off at the bus station?” Egon asked finally, filling his glass with water from the tap.

“Yeah.” Peter huffed, running a hand over the back of his head and leaving it to rest on his neck, “Stayed and made sure he got on the damn bus, too.”

That, at least, explained why Peter was still sitting up so late. “Where is he headed now?” Egon continued, sitting down across the table from Peter.

“Hell if I know. I’m just glad he’s gone.” Peter paused, “I… didn’t mean that.”

“No?” Egon attempted to sound casual, “You seemed eager to leave him in the parallelogram earlier today.”

Peter’s head snapped up and he glared over at Egon. “I’d never actually _leave_ the guy there. _Jesus_.” He huffed, then continued more quietly, “Unlike some people, I try to stick to my word.”

The brunet sighed again, dropping his head into his hands. Egon waited. “I love my dad, y’know?” Peter muttered eventually.

“Of course.” Egon replied readily- he did know; no matter how irritated Peter had been with his father over the years, he had rarely said one harsh word to the man’s face.

“But I just…” Peter looked back up at Egon, suddenly changing gears, “Y’know, when I was a kid, I never got why my mom and I were always strapped for cash. My dad was away working all the time, _he_ was making money, _he_ was supposed to be sending us some. Helping out.”

Egon frowned. “He wasn’t… keeping it from you?” He guessed carefully.

“No, nothing like that,” Peter shook his head, halfway amused, “I found out years later that my mom would refuse to take money from him unless he could look her in the eye and tell her that he earned it honestly. I guess he never could.”

Egon remembered Peter’s earlier statement. _He’s not a bad guy… he just can’t make an honest buck._

“All those years, watching him work, traveling around with carnivals in the summer, listening to him tell stories about his _clients_ … it never occurred to me that my dad wasn’t an honest guy.” Peter admitted, “Definitely never thought he was lying to _me_ \- I’m his own son.”

“I’m sure he never meant…” Egon began.

“No, he probably didn’t,” Peter cut him off, “But he never thinks things through, either.”

“Now that does sound familiar.” Egon replied.

“Hey- I think things through plenty!” Peter jabbed a finger at Egon.

“Of course you do.”

Frowning, Peter conceded Egon’s point. “Well, I think things through a lot more than Mr. Ghost Repeller.” He huffed.

“True.” Egon conceded in turn.

Peter was silent for a few moments and Egon took the opportunity to down his glass of water. “If there’s one thing I got from my dad, though, it’s the ability to talk my way out of just about anything.” Peter admitted with some fondness.

“Ah yes, you can ‘bullshit with the best of them,’ I believe you eloquently put it once.” Egon smirked.

A huff of laughter escaped the man across from him. “I spent so much time talking our asses out of whatever problem he’d gotten us into… And I started to realize that was all I was doing. Talking our way into and out of trouble. And he expected me to just… follow him!”

Egon’s brows rose a fraction. He hadn’t known Charlie Venkman had intended for Peter to follow in his footsteps. In fact, Peter had always been infuriatingly vague on the circumstances surrounding most of his life before college. It had taken Egon longer than he’d like to admit to understand why.

“I didn’t want that,” Peter continued quietly, “I couldn’t spend my life the way he was. So I worked my ass off and I got a scholarship and I got into school and still, he asks me, ‘you sure you don’t wanna be like your old man?’” Peter affected a fairly accurate imitation of his father’s voice. “And how am I supposed to tell him that I’m trying to get as far away from him as possible? He’s my dad!”

“He seems to want the best for you… in his own way. Surely he understood?” Egon ventured.

“Oh yeah, he understood how easy it was to come visit me on campus and sucker a few dozen students into buying whatever he was selling at the time.” Peter muttered, “Put a stop to that a little before I met you, though.”

Egon supposed that explained why he had been friends with Peter for years before he had ever met Charlie Venkman. Or perhaps the elder Venkman had simply been too busy elsewhere to drop by after Peter banned his scams from campus. Recalling Peter’s outraged declaration that his father was doing this to him again, Egon wondered what other phony business propositions Charlie had attempted to rope Peter into over the years.

“But after all this time and all that work, I thought I had a good name. I mean, sure, some people think the whole ghostbusting thing is a bit screwy, but… we’re doing good here, right?” Peter looked up at Egon and the blond was surprised to realize he was expected to answer.

“Undoubtedly,” Egon replied after a moment, “No matter what skeptics may say, we’ve saved lives, Peter. Made great advances in technology and in the research of the paranormal…”

“Exactly!” Peter waved his arms, “I spent so long trying to get out from under my dad’s reputation and- and make something that was _mine_ and I still can’t get rid of him!”

Peter’s words rang around the otherwise quiet kitchen, hanging in the air even after the sound had faded, and Peter slumped forward on the table once more. “But he’s still my dad. No matter what he does… or what he _didn’t_ do, he’s still my dad.” Peter sighed, “I don’t really have a lot left besides him, Egon.”

“Excuse my saying so,” Egon began primly, “But that’s a load of crap.”

Peter snapped up again to look across the table at Egon, bewildered. “What?”

“You heard me, Dr. Venkman. Of course you love your father, there is no fault in that, but he is absolutely not all you have.” Egon replied firmly, “I should think you would know that by now.”

Words apparently escaped Peter, so Egon continued. “There are three people and, whether you want it or not, one ghost in this building who would do anything for you- four people if you count Janine, and no matter how much you may argue, I know you have a certain amount of fondness for each other,” Egon steamrolled whatever Peter was about to say in retaliation to Egon’s assertion, “Furthermore, I’m fairly certain there is nothing you would not do for us in return. That, to me, seems rather like family.”

Peter was quiet, watching as Egon stood and walked around the table to take Peter’s hand and pull him from his seat. “Your life is your own, Peter. You’ve made your own choices and come to be here on your own power. And I think you know that.”

“To be fair, Slimer wasn’t really my choice.” Peter replied with a pale attempt at his usual sarcasm.

“That depends on who is telling the story, and is also beside the point.” Egon placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder, “Your father is gone now. There’s nothing we can do at the moment about him. But you do have a business to run, several busts to go on tomorrow with several good friends, and a person with whom you share your bed who would be eager to go there now. So you can decide to worry about where your father is going and what he’s doing, or you can come with me to bed and get on with the life that _you_ made.”

Peter blinked, nonplused by the sudden burst of speech from his partner. “Well… when you put in that way, it’s not really much of a choice, is it?” He said finally.

Egon favored him with a small smile before Peter leaned in and kissed him. “I’m gonna have to watch out, though,” Peter smirked as he leaned back, “You get much better at motivational speeches and my services as unofficial psych for the team will no longer be required.”

“Oh, I’m sure we could find something for you to do around the office. Perhaps Janine can start going on busts and you can take over her job.” Egon replied, barely hidden amusement in his tone.

Peter scowled. “Don’t even joke about that, Spengler,” He paused and yawned, “Now, I believe you said something about bed, and I’m beat.”

“A wonderful idea,” Egon replied, following closely as Peter headed out of the kitchen, “We have an early bust tomorrow.”

When the expected groan or complaint never came, replaced only with a soft hum of ascent, Egon cocked an eyebrow. “No complaints about having to rise early?” He asked, only half teasing.

Ahead of him, Peter shrugged. “Maybe in the morning. Right now, y’know what?” Peter turned around, stopping Egon short in front of the staircase.

“I can only imagine.” Egon replied.

“Right now, I think I’m just glad to be here.” Peter continued, ignoring Egon’s quip in favor of leaning up to kiss him once more before they both headed off to bed.


End file.
